


Act I: Things Fall Apart

by robogreaser



Series: In Search of a Remedey [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Break Up, Fights, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robogreaser/pseuds/robogreaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A happily-forever-after comes to a sudden halt when Rufioh Nitram breaks it off with Horruss Zahhak. The two of them are lost as to what to do now and shit ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sudden Stop

After several millennia of floating around and being forever stuck at nine sweeps old, things will get tiresome. But one thing had always been a constant: Rufioh Nitram was top prize in terms of who a troll could lasso into a quadrant.

He was the coolest of the cool and damn good looking too and Horuss couldn’t help but blush a deeper shade of blue whenever he realized that he’d won out where everyone else in their session had failed.

Horuss was flushed for Rufioh. And it used to be a big secret for the first few sweeps. The past several million years were different though. Everyone knew.

It was fact. It was reality. It had been going strong and without interruption for several sweeps now. All was well. Horuss couldn’t be happier. And with a little coaxing from a certain someone, that happiness was showing.

The weather was nice when Meulin decided to visit Horuss. At one point in time, the sheer thought they would even associate with one another was ludicrous, but now it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Ever since meeting their dancestors and catching wind of the hemospectrum-defying moirallegience, the two of them were hard at work trying to replicate it.

Meulin was quadrant-obsessed. Horuss was worried. At the end of the day it worked out very well for the both of them.

“So what’s the point of this, if I may be so bold as to ask?” Horuss picked up a folder from the table as Meulin assaulted her files.

“What’s the point? What _isn’t_ the point more like it?! Just think Horuss, if we organized everyone and made sure we knew what’s going on with their quadrants and everything then we’d be five steps ahead of everyone when it comes to the latest gossip. And not to mention if we’re ever in search of a little something special then we’ll know who’s available,” she nudged him with a grin on her face and he chuckled.

Meulin devolved into a ball of giggles and euphoria after catching her breath. Horuss’ ever forced smile softened and grew more genuine as she dove into the pile of papers she had been examining.

“Don’t you think that’s still being a bit nosy? Meulin? Meulin?” Horuss tried to gain her attention, but what with his newfound positive demeanor and her over-the-top enthusiasm for shipping, it wasn’t easy. Papers were flying and Meulin was clambering over the table in search of a certain set of notes on Porrim’s shenanigans. Horuss knew she couldn’t hear him, but she usually paid attention. He was losing patience. “MEULIN!” he grabbed her by the arm and forced her back into her chair.

She stopped.

“Horuss, I thought we agreed your anger and yelling and mean-ness wasn’t helping you at all. With anything. What are you trying to do, ruin all this progress you’ve been making?” she said, her stern tone pushing down any authority Horuss had commanded.

“No,” Horuss said, quieting a little as his smile vanished and he twiddled his thumbs. “It’s not like that Meulin. I swear. It’s just—” he paused and looked up at her, trying to regain the upper hand. “Sometimes I think all this happy visage has managed to do is alienate Rufioh. He seems uncomfortable about it sometimes, but I know he’s supportive. It’s just so confusing for me sometimes trying to understand him. And besides, Meulin, don’t you think this shipping tomfoolery is rather unbecoming? You’re being nosy and that leads to nothing but trouble. I thought you’d have learned that after all the billions of sweeps.”

“Well—” Meulin’s innocent voice returned and the two of them relaxed. “Not really. I mean, it’s not that big of a deal, is it? I mean it’s not like you have to worry about any of that interfering stuff, there isn’t a single person who’d ever be a better match for you than Rufioh, right? And you’ve got me in your pale corner, so that takes care of that. And you would never do well in the ashen quadrant and you surely don’t have the capabilities to go black for—”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. I shouldn’t worry about it. You are the quadrant queen, carry on. What were you saying about, uh let’s see,” Horuss shuffled through some of her notes and scribbles. They were mostly heart-shaped outlines in red around him and Rufioh, and Latula and Captor. He sighed.

Meulin giggled as she found a violet colored folder. “Look at this sorry excuse,”

“What is it?” Horuss said, craning his neck over the shipping mess on his workbench.

“Proof of Ampora’s eternally empty quadrants in writing,” Meulin snuffed out her laughing when Horuss didn’t join in. “What?”

“Empty quadrants aren’t funny Meulin. Being lonely is rather unfortunate and takes a toll on a troll,” Horuss said, giving her a disapproving glare. She set the folder down and shrugged before they continued.

It was two hours of nonsense and Meulin’s excitement over Porrim’s romps later that they were finally interrupted. Horuss was saved.

A sharp knock at the door to his hive made him jump. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and grinned. “Well Meulin, I guess it’s time you go. Rufioh and I have had tonight planned for quite some time now,” he got up and she followed suit, sweeping all her papers in to her bag with a smile. “It was fun,”

“Really, you mean it?” Meulin asked with a squeak.

“Yeah.” 

***

Dinner with Rufioh always was a breeze. Horuss loved it. Now that they were in a dreambubble of Beforus, things like cooking were easier, especially without the alchemiter. Especially for Rufioh. He had never managed to master it and had always caused a mess. But then again, after Horuss had managed to master the nonsense in under two hours, Rufioh had no need to.

“How was dinner?” Horuss asked, looking across the sofa. Rufioh sat there, absorbed by his anime, so out of reach.

“Huh?” he looked up and at Horuss. “Oh, it was good. Great,”

Rufioh had been so distant. Now was no different. Horuss just kept quiet though, not really wanting to talk about it for fear of—

“We need to talk.”

Horuss seized up. It always, _always_ , ended up here every forty years or so. Always. And it’d always be the same tired, half-assed, excuse. He was tired of it. So he ignored it. Again.

“What? I’m sorry Rufioh, the valves clogged up again. I’ve really got to get these fixed. I feel so ashamed that I can’t carry a conversation with you because of it,” Horuss said. It was a lie. He had heard all of it.

“Stop.” Rufioh switched his anime off and turned to stare Horuss straight in the eye. He reached over and slipped the goggles and headgear off with on sweeping motion of his hand. Horuss white eyes stared back.

“What?”

“Stop this. Stop this game. You said the same thing three days ago and I know if you really wanted to fix these damned things,” he waved the goggles around, “you would have.” Rufioh tossed them to the side and Horuss watched them land on the coffee table. A lump formed in his throats and his face contorted. Rufioh had prepared for this. “And don’t go pulling any other excuse out. You heard me the first time. You heard my all the time and I know you’re just feigning deafness to save something that’s doomed anyway. Don’t drag this out and don’t make it harder than it is.”

“Rufioh—”

“I want out.”

Horuss leaned across the couch to try and take Rufioh’s hand but he was already up and walking away. Horuss couldn’t move. It hurt to think. Rufioh was already out the door.

 How did this happen?

It was all so fast. It was all so unexpected. It was all over. Horuss fell face first into the cushions on the sofa. He fell apart all alone and his smile vanished.

***

Rufioh fluttered away from Horuss’ hive, forcing himself to keep going, to not look back. He just had to get on with it. He forced himself not to worry. He swallowed away the lump in his throat and sighed. This was for the best, as much as it hurt knowing Horuss was hurt, it was for the best.

It was for the best.

He arrived at his treehive fast enough, landing on the platform without the slightest sound. His head met the door with a band and he held back the self-loathing. He tried to. He banged his head on the door several times until the pain masked the guilt.

It was for the best.

Rufioh shuffled inside and dragged himself to his recuperacoon. He didn’t want to worry or think or brood over his decision.

It was for the best.


	2. Don't Look Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufioh is finally free of his dead-end relationship. But that doesn't mean he's actually _free_.

The first day was an unsettling kind of quiet. The second day was stormy. The third day was quiet again, but humid and breezy.

On the fourth day Rufioh made the first move and dragged himself out of his recuperacoon. He washed the spoor slime off and walked to the window. He hated motion, the swaying of his body and the movement of the sun. He stared outside and repeated the mantra in his head.

It was for the best.

He would not let guilt weigh him down for the millionth time. A million times and then some. He would not crawl back, fly back, run back, or leap back into the wrecking ball that was his relationship with Horuss. His psyche couldn’t handle it. Again. He had put himself back together after blowing himself apart all the infinite times before.

He couldn’t do it again. And so, he rationalized: it was for the best and that was that.

And besides, Horuss deserved better than a fool so fickle. Horuss deserved a little bit of stability. Someone who’d come right out and tell him he was being weird. Horuss deserved—

“No.” Rufioh dropped his gaze and banged his head on the window. “ _I_ deserve someone who understands. _I_ deserve better,” he told himself, trying his best not to preoccupy his time with thoughts of Zahhak. He was nothing but a jerky blueblood that somehow turned into this creepy ball of smiles and compliments.

Zahhak had changed and it was not for the best.

Rufioh got up and turned away from the sight of all the trees near his hive. He didn’t want to look at this place anymore. He couldn’t handle home. Not this place where he and Horuss had started this whole soap opera; where he and Zahhak started this unfortunate, never-ending journey.

He glided to the kitchen.  The fridge was full, yet again, and even after a million some-odd years of perpetual restocking at the whim of the dreambubbles, he wasn’t satisfied. He shut the door and tapped his foot, rubbed his neck, fluttered across the room and walked out the door.

It had been a few days. Maybe now he could brave the rest of his troupe now.

***

The lawnring was the closest thing to a social hub they had. It was the spot in the dreambubble where the everyone spent the majority of their time. There were, of course, three notable exceptions.

The first being Meenah with her inexorable desire to remain secluded in her pink-moon castle. The second was Damara who, thankfully, stayed at bay because no one really wanted to deal with her. Most of the time. And the third was Zahhak, who had always preferred a little bit of seclusion and good dose of privacy. Especially after a breakup.

Rufioh wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but he couldn’t stand to sit in an empty hive now that he was finally free of his Zahhak brand of dead weight. He was free. Free of everything but the creeping guilt. He didn’t want to attract any over-exuberant amount of attention but he wanted to talk to someone.

“Hey Nitam.”

Not that kind of attention though.

“No.” Rufioh flew right past Cronus without a second thought. Every time he managed to get out of his shenanigans with Zahhak he always gained some semblance of confidence that wasn’t just an inflated façade.

Like usual.

And for him, confidence was exactly what he need to avoid unwanted Ampora attention.

“Harsh—” Ampora grumbled as he watched Rufioh fly toward the opposite end of the lawnring, out toward Porrim’s residence in the Prospit-y section of the dreambubble. He didn’t look back. He didn’t care what some creeper wanted to say to him, do to him, or whatever else Ampora wished to accomplish with a conversation.

He shuddered and knocked on the door to Porrim’s tower. It took a few seconds but she answered with a smile at the sight of a somewhat happy Nitram.

“Did it again?” Porrim asked. Rufioh knew what she meant and nodded with a shrug. “Well come on in. Ampora’s been slithering around looking for attention. You might as well stay out of sight.”

“How’re things at this end of the bubble anyway?” Rufioh asked as he walked in and Porrim shut the door.

“Quiet. For the most part,” Porrim said as she and Rufioh walked to the living room. “Ever since Meenah got her shit together and started her second-suicide mission that no one really gave a crap about, yeah, everything’s been quiet,” she said, flopping into her couch alongside Rufioh.

“Oh,” Rufioh said, unable to offer any decent conversation. Porrim got up and offered him a glass of iced tea, trying to be somewhat hospitable. He was usually self-loathing wreck when his relationship got to this point in the cycle.

“Well, that was until you just walked out on Horuss. Now half of everyone is in a tizzy again and wondering how long it’s going to be until you two get back to doing the nasties.” Porrim cracked a smirk.

Rufioh choked on his drink and spluttered everywhere.

“No-o-o,” he said, wiping his face. “I know the two of us had a track-record but this time is—well it’s different now,”

“Oh really?” Porrim asked, her tongue laden with sarcasm. “How’s that?”

“Well…” Rufioh took a long sip on his drink and glanced around. “Ever since his deal with Meulin started up and he’s been all, how do I put this?” Rufioh pondered his words.

“Weird,” Porrim offered.

“Yeah.” Rufioh frowned and stared into his drink. “He’s different now that that’s all started and since he’s met his dancestor and I don’t know—” Rufioh sighed. He slouched forward and continued to stare at his drink.

“Oh _come on_ Rufioh, that doesn’t mean it’s not going to be like all the other thousand times you two played this game. Besides, if any two trolls are destined to be conjoined at the hip, it’d be you two idiots,”

“I don’t know Porrim, it really _is_ different this time,” Rufioh looked up at the ceiling. “I know he saw this coming. I know it. He’s been avoiding talking about us. He feigned deafness to avoid it. He’s saddling all this emotional responsibility on me. We haven’t pailed in weeks. He’s just not the same troll anymore. He used to be such a loveable hardass. Now it’s like he’s some deranged fiduspawn host plush,” he said, his brow furrowed as he thought about it.

“Really?” Porrim said, her eyebrows raised. Never had she heard, in all these billions of sweeps, anything about these two ever sounding so serious. Or permanent.  Rufioh had never sounded so serious.

“Yeah, doll.”

“So…?” Porrim went wide-eyed. “You two might be _really_ over. Like _done,_ done?”

“That was the plan,”

***

Rufioh spent an afternoon with Porrim, catching up on the important gossip and the not-so-important chit-chat. She fixed the dye in his hair for him and he couldn’t help but give her a big hug for it. And as the dreambubble sun decided it was time to disappear Rufioh made his way to leave.

Porrim held him back for a minute longer.

“Rufioh, before you go,” she said, “there is something I want you to know,”

“Yeah doll?”

“With all of your breaks, I’ve had my times with you and Horuss and I’m a little more perceptive to the shit trolls don’t say out loud. And I want you to know, whether you feel guilty or not, that Horuss isn’t taking this well,”

“And?” Rufioh asked, surprised to think he should care.

“He never talked to anyone besides you until his moirallegience with Leijon kicked in. Now he’s not even talking to her,” Porrim let Rufioh’s arm go and stared at him. “I don’t care if you care about him anymore, but at some point in the future, whether it’s today or another million sweeps from now, I think you’re going to have to go see him.”

“Why?” Rufioh scoffed, actually offended. His face flushed a deeper shade of brown.

“Cause the way you broke it off was pretty shitty and you acting like a bulge isn’t really a smart way to end something as important as your matespriteship.”

Rufioh’s mouth dropped open and he backed up a few steps, unable to comprehend how his day with Porrim managed to turn to shit in three seconds flat.

“Wha-a-at?”

“Our session may have made him a Void player, but that doesn’t mean he has to be utterly alone and hidden away,” Porrim said as she started to close the door.

“What the hell do you care?” Rufioh asked, peeved at the connotation of Porrim trying to push him back toward Zahhak.

“What can I say? I ship it.” Porrim winked and closed her door.

***

Flustered could not begin to describe Rufioh’s state as he slammed the door. Enraged couldn’t either. He paced in agitation, his wings twitching and his ears burning. He never got angry. Not like this.

He was nine sweeps old. He’d been nine for an eternity at that. How could Porrim, as nosey as her Maryam genes made her, even think of saying that to his face only days—

He would not brood on this. No. Not now.

It was for the best.

He flew to the couch and crash landed in front of the television. Anime could help. Anything to take his racing mind off of the reemerging guilt. He swiped at the remote on thetable. It was another rerun thanks to a dreambubble dry of any creativity.

There was a knock at the door.

Rufioh groaned as loud as he could, hoping to deter any nuisance at the door. The knock sounded again and he chucked the remote across the room after muting his show. He tore at the door. The hinges squealed. His anger died with his scowl and he groaned with pure distaste for his situation.

“You,”

“ ~~Hey there,”~~


	3. A Series of Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Women make things complicated. It is a law of nature.

“I really don’t want to deal with you right now doll,”

“ ~~Is that really anyway to talk to the love of your life?~~ ” Damara asked with a smirk. She crossed her arms, tapped her foot and cocked her head to the side, waiting for Rufioh to invite her in.

“Considering how I don’t have a ‘love of my life,’ that really doesn’t concern me, now does it?” Rufioh said. He didn’t dare give an inch now, metaphorically speaking or to let Damara in.

“ ~~So then I take that as confirmation you broke it off with him. Good,~~ ” she said. “ ~~I just needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth,~~ ”

Rufioh flushed a deep shade of brown and glared at her. Her cocky smile remained even as the door slammed shut in her face. He didn’t want to deal with her or _anyone’s_ puns.

***

It had been several days now. Horuss couldn’t find it in himself to move. He curled up tighter on the couch as the knocking at the door grew louder. Horuss pressed the cushions tighter against his head, hoping and praying the sound could be shut out. He’d rather be as deaf as Meulin than have to listen to her pathetic attempts at being a good pale partner.

“GO AWAY!” he roared after another five minutes of adamant pounding at the door to his hive. The saccharine smile she had managed to affix to his face was dead now. Gone. Happy smiley Horuss was dead and that was the only good thing to come out of the debacle.

***

Rufioh kept glancing back at the door to make sure she’d leave. But those damned hair stick thingies that seemed to be fused to her scalp were still visible in the window.

“Go away Damara!” he yelled at the door as he flicked on the TV.

“ ~~Why? Don’t you want to hook those massive horns of yours in my~~ —”

Rufioh ripped the door open and smothered her mouth with one hand. He could feel her smile.

“Not cool doll. Not cool at all,” Rufioh said as he half-dragged the girl into his hive. He didn’t need any more complications in his quadrant shenanigans. And that included rumors flitting through the dreambubble. And Damara related rumors would be the absolute worst.

***

The knocking continued. Horuss could still hear her mewling through his white cushion. He groaned louder and threw it across the room. He unfurled like a fiddlehead and propped himself up. He took a deep, reassuring breath and rubbed his eyes.

Horuss clambered to the door and turned the knob with care. He wasn’t wearing his gloves and he didn’t want to break anything. He had done that enough in the last few days. Especially the TV. And the fridge. And the shower door. And that one wobbly leg on the coffee table. And that rafter in the wall behind that picture he had put up.

The door swung open and a very angry, very olive-flushed troll stood there ready to start another round of door pounding even though her hands were sore and the knuckles were raw.

***

 “I really don’t want to deal with this crazy bullshit doll,” Rufioh sighed as he paced. “Especially _your_ crazy bullshit,”

“ ~~Sure you don’t,~~ ” Damara said as she fiddled with the set of buttons on her cardigan. They were loose. Per usual. Rufioh hadn’t noticed.

“No Damara, I don’t think you get it,” Rufioh said as is pacing intensified. Damara watched him from his ratty couch and leaned back, pulling her legs up under her. She inhaled, breathing easier now that she was free from the confines of her top. Rufioh still hadn’t noticed.

“ ~~I hear you loud and clear bull-boy,~~ ”

***

Meulin forced herself past the blueblood and immediately started spouting off about how counter-intuitive his reclusive behavior was to his development. She rambled on and on in her piercing voice about his demeanor be positively unacceptable given the sever nature of the situation

“Charts and files and folders will all have to be revised. I’ll have to conduct new research and recalculate the scenarios around our group. And you’ll have to put yourself out there and we all know that isn’t going to be easy and—”

“Meulin, I will try my absolute hardest to remain civil. But,” Horuss grabbed her shoulders, and she winced at the force. “You need to leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want your help. I don’t want your meddling. I want nothing. I want to be left alone. Now if you wouldn’t mind vacating the premises; that would be lovely.”

Horuss picked her straight up and held her at arm’s length before turning on his heel and depositing her shocked form outside his door.

“But, Horuss,” she mumbled, rubbing her bruising shoulders.

“But nothing.”

***

Damara had her eye on her faerie-flavored prize.

Rufioh had turned on his heel and stopped cold. He froze. As detrimental as it was to his desire to be rid of her, his eyes were glued to her bare chest. She smirked as he fluttered over to the couch and sat beside her.

“ ~~How did I know that as soon as you got a glimpse of what you tossed aside, that you’d come crawling back,~~ ” Damara rolled her eyes as Rufioh sidled up against her and wrapped his arm around her. He tried in vain to cover her shoulders up with the burgundy cardigan.

“It not like I didn’t like you this way Dams… It’s just that… Well… I must’ve lost sight off what a wonder you were.” Rufioh brushed his hand over the nape of her neck as he withdrew.

“ ~~Oh don’t pull that shit fly-boy. You’re a whore. And now you don’t have that blueberry flavored lollipop at your disposal, so you’re going to crawl back to the best thing on the market.~~ ” She took one hand and squeezed his thigh and the other set of her fingertips to guide his face to hers. “ ~~Admit it,~~ ”

“It’s not like that doll… It’s just… Horuss and I hadn’t pailed in weeks and I’m all rustled up and you… doll, it’s _you_ were talking about… And you just make it so easy to make a guy forget all his problems…” he swept a strand of errant hair out of her face and drew closer.

“ ~~So I’ve heard,~~ ” Damara smiled as they drew closer. “ ~~Let me make all your problems melt away fly-boy.~~ ”

***

Horuss hadn’t slept well in those few days since his personal armageddon of the relationship-kind. That night wasn’t any better. He was wrapped around himself, his arms cradled his knees and his hair splayed everywhere in the sopor.

He was tired of crying and punching things. He didn’t know what to do.

How could such a vacuum of emotion exist inside of him? How could he feel so damned empty? How could Rufioh pull this shit yet again?

Horuss stood up and wiped most of the slime off of his chest.

After an eternity of that rustblood’s fickle bullshit, he was tired of feeling like this over and over and over again. The sweeps weren’t kind to his psyche. Neither was his lover. Horuss stepped out of his recuperacoon and padded across his room and flicked on the light to the bathroom.

Within ten minutes his unbridled impulse had taken over.

He left his hive with only one goal on his mind.


	4. Take a Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Horuss

It wasn’t so late in the evening that the lawnring would be empty. And that was unfortunate. Horuss gripped the box in his arms a little tighter and prayed he wouldn’t be seen.

“Looking pretty snazzy there, chief,” Cronus said as he started walking beside Horuss. “I like the haircut even if it is a bit rough around the edges. You should’ve went to Porrim and then maybe you’d have a slick coif like mine, don’t you think?”

“I really don’t have time for your bullshit right now Ampora,”

“Whoa there, no need to be hostile. I’m just making conversation,” Cronus said, his tone softening and a stray hand reaching for Horuss’ shoulder.

“Yeah, and then if this conversation lasts longer than two minutes you’re going to think I owe you a night in my bedroom. I’ll pass,” Horuss said, picking up the pace. Cronus followed.

“Who says that?” Cronus pouted. “I’m a decent guy, why do you got to put me down like that?”

“Because you’ve got a track record for being a dipshit and I don’t have time for it. Back off, Cronus,” Horuss said as he swept Cronus away from him with the swing of one arm. The violet-blood hit the ground hard and whimpered. Horuss walked away.

And Horuss didn’t care. There were more important things at hand. There were more important things to attend to than some horny prick and his bruise-prone feelings. There were more important things up ahead. The lawnring disappeared behind him as the stand of trees seemed to materialize out of the gloomy dark.

Horuss swallowed hard as the memories fought to the forefront of his thoughts. In the shadows of these first few trees, as they reached up into the gloomy twilight, this was place where he met Rufioh that first time. It killed Horuss to be here with only one thing on his mind.

He quickened. He dared not dwell on what was said and done and passed by and dead for an eternity. There were more important things at hand. Rufioh’s monstrous tree with its hive nestled in the branches loomed ahead.

The lights were on.

There was noise.

Horuss kept walking. He had a faint idea of the horror that lay ahead, but he couldn’t stop now. He adjusted the crate underneath his arm. There was a note at the bottom. A note Horuss forced himself to write. He picked up the pace.

The noise grew louder as he climbed the ladder, one arm wrapped around the box. He had climbed this ladder so many times and—

“ ~~Oh fly boy! Right there! Yes! Yes!~~ ”

Horuss froze.

White noise from the anime drowned out the rest of the passionate moans. He couldn’t take another minute of this. The box dropped onto the landing in front of his ex-boyfriend’s door. 

Horuss sped back to the lawnring as fast as he could, trying his hardest to put everything out of his head. He didn’t look back, didn’t stop to think, didn’t want to imagine how it could have happened. Or why. He couldn’t imagine being on this end of Rufioh’s fickle heart. He couldn’t imagine that after all the hell that bitch had put him through—

He walked past Ampora again and this time the eternal flirt kept back. Horuss cringed at the thought of having to bruise his sensitive ego. Or his gills. Either way it kept—

“I bet you thought I didn’t see you there, huh?”

“Son-of-a-bitch! I really do NOT want to deal with you right now Ampora!” Horuss said, choking at the emotion clogging his throat. Cronus _actually_ stepped back.

“Are you okay, chief?” Cronus offered a consoling hand on Horuss’ shoulder but he was shrugged off.

“It’s nothing you’ve got to worry about, now please leave me alone,” Horuss said, trying to slip away.

Cronus followed him. “Horuss, you don’t look okay. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to someone about it? I’m right here,” Cronus said, trying to keep up with Horuss’ pace.

“Just leave me alone, there’s nothing you can do.” Horuss broke out into a run for his hive.

Cronus had no hope of catching up with him now. He sighed and wandered back to the lawnring. “Every time I try and be nice, every time I try and be sincere and they all just run away,”

***

By dawn Rufioh was exhausted. It was a rigorous night of movement and fluttering wings and for once he didn’t have a film of dried sweat on his skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked out over the trees. He may have been dead, but at least he wasn’t in a rut. At least he wasn’t tied down.

It was for the best.

Damara had slithered out the door and down the ladder before light had penetrated the horizon. They all may have been in a rosy little bubble floating through the void, but somehow they still got a sunrise. At least that’s what you got when your afterlife is crafted from the memories of twelve teens.

Rufioh heaved a content sigh. “This was worth it,” he murmured as he turned to go fix himself some breakfast.

There was a crate to the side of the door. Rufioh’s brow furrowed as he strode over to see what was up. He bent down and noticed a note at the bottom of the box. The scrawl was too familiar.

_“I want my things back. Everything. If you find a heart, keep it for yourself. You obviously need one.”_

 


	5. Packing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Damara Megido begins sticking her nose where it doesn't belong.

Something may be worth it but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Rufioh had half a mind to chuck that empty crate halfway across the dreambubble but thought better of it. He did have an unfortunate amount of his ex’s belongings. He really did want to get rid of them. Damara was a little too keen on experimenting with some of Horuss’ art.

And as much as he had pestered Horuss about the same thing countless times, it wasn’t right to give Damara that opportunity at fun or to hurt Horuss. Rufioh didn’t want that much hell to descend on his ex. He didn’t wish any hell on Horuss come to think of it. But… there was that note.

He fluttered around his hive picking up things as he went.

“What I did was right!” Rufioh repeated to himself in front of the mirror. He kept throwing Horuss’ shit in the crate and stopped at the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. A tube of toothpaste, his toothbrush, a half empty bottle of mane and tail, Rufioh scoffed as he tossed it into the crate. He grabbed the fancy comb and the tube of lube next to—

“Oh jegus, not another one!” Rufioh cringed as another one of Horuss’ sculptures tumbled out of the cabinet and into the sink. Rufioh shook his head, trying to disperse the horrible, nasty thoughts about Horrus’ strange collection of phallic monstrosities and—

“ ~~Hey faerie-boy I think I left my underwear in your…~~ ” Damara rounded the corner and caught Rufioh with the cobalt blue ‘art’ in his hands. “ ~~So, I see you’ve changed your mind about all that business huh?~~ ”

“Aw hell no!” Rufioh dropped it in the crate, pushed past Damara and left the bathroom. “I’m just getting his shit in a box and getting rid of it. Not everyone thinks sex all the time like you, doll,”

Damara scoffed and lit a cigarette. “ ~~So what then, you’re just going to trot right over there and drop his shit off? Or are you gonna go pull your same old shit and go fuck him to even out those seven or eight rounds we had last night?~~ ”

“Damn, Damara, is that all you think about?”

“ ~~Pretty much,~~ ” she shrugged. “ ~~That and how I’ll paralyze you this time if you _do_ go pity-fuck the brains out of that loser,~~ ”

“Well that just ain’t cool,” Rufioh said. He paced around his bedroom picking up pieces of Horuss’ clothes and trinkets and whatnot as he went. Damara kept a hard eye on him as he went. She didn’t need him slithering his sorry as back to that particular brand of blue-blooded fool. She watched as he fumbled with a pair of his de-strengthening gloves and a sweat-stained undershirt. After several minutes he kicked the overflowing crate away from him.

“ ~~And how do you plan on delivering that package?~~ ” Damara asked as she finished her joint.

“I don’t know…” Rufioh said, leaning on the side of his recuperacoon, head in his hands. “I really don’t have the heart to go see him right now. Or any time soon. And I know it’ll be too much for him to handle and…” Rufioh sighed.

“ ~~Why don’t I go visit the pretty pony-boy?~~ ” Damara said, beaming. Rufioh snapped his head up. He was ready to talk her down from that particular ledge, but she had dove for the crate of sex toys and clothes. She was out the front door before Rufioh could get in her way.

He groaned as he watched her slide down the ladder with the box under one arm. There was nothing he could do to stop the hellfire that was brewing.

***

Horuss holed himself up in his workshop. Now was no different. Something in the metal and welding equipment and soldering guns and wiring helped him put things in order.  Things had to be put in order. Everything had its place. Everything belonged somewhere.

Everything but him.

The doorbell rang as he wiped his eyes and pushed aside all the scrap metal on his desk. He prayed it wasn’t Cronus. Or Meulin. Or anyone for that matter. He was a mess and that was not the state such a high ranking, blue-blooded, gentlemen should present himself as. He straightened himself out as the bell rang again.

When he got to the door any semblance of dignity he had hidden himself in faded away.

It was _her._

 


	6. Dismantle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horuss refuses to dwell on his misfortunes and begins a new project instead.

Horuss walked to the door, with little on his mind except to yell at whoever was harassing him at such an inopportune moment. If it weren’t for his de-strengthening gloves the door would have crumbled from the hinges.

“WHAT!”

“ ~~Hey there pony-boy, I got a package here for you,~~ ” Damara said, shoving the box into Horuss’ chest. “ ~~Now do you got a package for me?~~ ” Damara asked. She leaned forward until her nose was an inch from his.

“You know, after a billion something sweeps, you’d think a filthy, low-blood, wench like you would manage to speak properly. But nooo…” Horuss popped his goggles up onto his forehead. “You’d rather keep bubbling with spite and jealousy until it managed to ruin the one good thing in my life,”

Horuss didn’t need another second. He slammed the door in the dumbfounded girl’s face.

Damara blinked before registering what had just happened. She cocked her head and grinned her nasty grin before turning on her heel and skipping back from whence she came.

Horuss hadn’t fared so well. He slid down to the floor and cradled the box against his chest. He couldn’t believe. Rufioh must’ve hated him. Sending her to…

Horuss wiped his eyes and put his goggles back on. He couldn’t stand the light anyway so it was as good an excuse as any to hide his face. He got up and slunk over to his room and dropped the box by his recuperacoon. He sighed and leaned against his bed, debating whether or not to crawl into it for another few days.

“No, this won’t do,” Horuss stood up straight and swept some lint off of his sleeve. “This won’t do at all,” he grumbled as he strode to the door to his workshop. He opened the door and inhaled. This was his sanctuary and even if everything else was doomed to crumble around him, at least he had his work.

He flicked the light on and went to his table. Ever since he had mended things with Rufioh the last time he hadn’t been in here as much. He didn’t find the time for his work. He had more important things to worry about.

Like making sure Rufioh wouldn’t play his games again. Like making sure they didn’t fall back into their cycle. Like making it absolutely clear that he was devoted to Rufioh alone.

Obviously that didn’t work.

He pulled out several schematics while the thoughts ran through his head. Like how his matesprite was the most fickle and uncommitted in the world. How was it, that after who knew how many eons, Rufioh still felt like he couldn’t talk to him? How was it it that he was so afraid to just tell Horuss what was wrong.

He couldn’t keep trying to guess. Horuss wasn’t a mind reader.

He tried to wipe the few tears out from behind his goggles before they got spotty. There was no time for that right now. Horuss drummed his fingers on his desk and resolved to get to work. He had no time for dwelling.

***

It had managed to consume five hours and Horuss was happy with that. He didn’t care much for time. He loathed time.

The chassis had been deconstructed and inventory of the parts had been cataloged. Horuss struggled with dismantling his magnum opus, but it had to be done. Rufioh’s former body had been picked apart, piece by piece, wire by wire, plate by plate.

It hurt, but Horuss needed this. He offered up a weak smile to the empty room. But unlike all the other smiles for the past two sweeps, this was genuine. It was his.


	7. Reflective Surfaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _FLASHBACKS_

Horuss slid his chair back and stood. Stepping back, he tried to get a different perspective on his work table. Sitting there, staring at pistons and plating and wires and whatnot for far too long was no good. The place was a mess.

His pride and joy was now in pieces. Rufioh-bot was no more.

***

Horuss had watched his matesprit fly plenty of times. It was a graceful, slightly unnerving experience.  He himself could never brave the heights, but on the other hand Rufioh enjoyed it. Horuss would only oblige to a lift if he could tell Rufioh was on the verge of begging.

But something was off.

Horuss pushed his goggles up and watched Rufioh dive down from the clouds. This wasn’t normal. He ran onto the landing and leaned out over the railing. Rufioh tumbled down out of the darkening sky. Quicker. And quicker.

He wasn’t flying. He was falling.

“RUFIOH!” Horuss clambered up onto the railing, crouched down and leaped. If it weren’t for that ungodly strength of his it would have been futile. Zahhak’s were a different breed of troll. Horuss soared upwards into the inky sky, soaring for his matesprit’s flailing silhouette.

He heard nothing but the rushing wind as he caught Rufioh’s shivering body. The mudblood was whimpering something into Horuss’ neck, but it was unintelligible. Horuss shifted his weight and braced for his descent. They met the ground with a hard thud, but Horuss was still standing. His goggles had fallen off, his hair was everywhere, but it didn’t matter, Rufioh was bundle of jelly in his arms.

“Ru, what happened, my God look at you!” Horuss knelt down, laying his boyfriend’s bloodied broken body against the ground as softly as he could.

“Guess what, doll? Damara, she found out about us. Isn’t that a riot?” Rufioh said, barely above a whisper, before descending into a coughing fit.

“What?! The no good, rotten BITCH!” Horuss roared, standing up and scanning the desolate Land of Caves and Silence for a sign of the burgundy-blooded she-devil.

“Dude, she ain’t here. Chill. Just…” Rufioh started coughing again. The pained sounds brought Horuss back to reality. Horuss bit his lip and scooped up Rufioh as gently as he could. They began their march back to Horuss’ hive.

“I’m going to fix you up. I swear on my life Rufioh, everything will be fine, I’ll make everything all right for you,” Horuss said as he supported Rufioh’s drooping head. The brown-blood caked face gave a weak smile and a big pair of translucent wings twitched.

“Horuss, you’ve lost your goggles, babe,” Rufioh coughed again and splattered a bit of blood on his matesprit.

“I don’t give a damned about no stupid goggles,” Horuss silenced Rufioh by pressing a finger to his lips as they ran into the hive.

***

Horuss stood in front of the bathroom mirror. All of it had happened so quick, and even though it was eons ago, it felt like yesterday. She had broken 80% of the bones in Rufioh’s body, fractured his spine in six places and damaged both lungs, his liver and one kidney beyond repair. She had left him for dead in the sands of his sgrub planet. What she hadn’t figured was his ability to fly remaining intact.

But by the time he had made it to Horuss, he was on the verge of death.

It was a spur of the moment decision to hook Rufioh up to one of his hoofbeast projects. At the end of the day, yeah, Horuss enjoyed the end result. It was never intentional though. He would never turn Rufioh into a horse without asking first. He hadn’t even thought of it before then. It was far too depraved even in the most deviant parts of his mind.

But regardless, Horuss had saved his life.

He looked up at himself, the low humming lights casting his face in shadow. He had been crying and it was too obvious to deny.

***

Rufioh had a plethora of wires snaking in and out of his neck as Horuss threw things around his workshop.

“Dude, calm down,” Rufioh said, trying to get a glimpse of Horuss in his peripheral vision. “You’ve got this all under control, there’s no reason you’ve got to go all barbaric and bat-shit insane just for me,”

“Oh don’t give me any of that nonchalant bullshit Rufioh,” Horuss sneered as he threw himself into the chair in front of Rufioh. “If I don’t have everything ready when we, you know, start the procedure, you could bleed out.” Horuss sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m not letting anything happen to you,”

“Stop worrying dude. You’ve stopped the bleeding, you’ve got all my shit under control with your super fancy computers and whatnot. Don’t go losing your shit now. You’ll pull a Damara.”

“Don’t you dare use that _cunt’s_ name anywhere near me,” Horuss seethed.

“Woah, chill man. She beat the living shit out of me, remember. Besides, such crude language is not befitting a troll of your pedigree,”

“Don’t sass me,” Horuss grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked around. Rufioh’s unmoving body was strapped to the table, up at 60 degree angle under the light. Horuss had already taken all the measurements and set up all the important lines connecting Rufioh’s brain to the main computers. He was stable. For now.

“What are you so worried about, you’re a pro at these shenanigans, just get on with it,” Rufioh gave a weak smile, trying his hardest to reassure Horuss.

“I have no qualms about the procedure itself, love. The limitations on my proceedings are what concern me,” Horuss explained.

“Whoa, why the sudden change in tone? Three seconds ago you were ready to cull the next thing that knocked on the door,”

“That’s not befitting a troll of my pedigree. And besides,” Horuss stood to check the readings on the computer. “I can cull that primeval bitch and maintain a degree of sophistication,” Horuss said as he scanned the chemical readings.

“Dude. I do _not_ care,” Rufioh groaned. “I just want off of this table. Can’t you just whip up a rad robo-bod for me? I know you’ve got it in you. That sparring bot you sent me last sweep was pretty rad. Not to mention pretty frisky if you ask me…” Rufioh said, trailing off into a grumble.

“I could’ve. On Beforus. Here? Not so easy.” Horuss said, sitting back down in front of Rufioh.

“Why not, just start up the alchemiter and make a robo-copy of sexy, little-ole-me.”

“First off, faux-confidence isn’t going to win you any brownie points right now. Secondly, babe, you’ve got to understand we’re not making nachos or ripped jeans right now. The alchemiter is so very particular and I’m not sure it could even replicate a working chassis formatted for you. I have to do this by hand. And I only have so much to work with and—”

“Just figure something out, doll, please,” Rufioh begged. “You have no idea how uncomfortable it is having no sense of touch or control of your body. Just… fix me up babe. Make me a cool metallic dude and get me off of this table. I trust you,”

Horuss’ gaze softened and he cocked his head. “Of course,”

***

It wasn’t Horuss’ fault. He couldn’t have remade that last chassis in time to save Rufioh. The blood-loss was too severe. His brain had suffered minor trauma but there was swelling in his spinal column and…

Horuss dried off his face and looked back up into the mirror. He was several millennia old and yet still only nine sweeps old. He didn’t look like either. Horuss looked like hell incarnate.

“I’m sorry I saved your life Rufioh,” Horuss said to his reflection. “It was obviously too much of a burden for you. Too bad you’re quest bed wasn’t around,”

Horuss returned to his workshop and glanced around at all the spare parts strewn over every horizontal surface. There was a ding at his husktop and it scared him. The blue screen flooded the room with a ghostly light and he strode over, ready to ignore whatever interruption awaited him.

***

Rufioh was heavily sedated. Not that it was particularly necessary considering the extensive nerve damage, but it calmed Horuss. And when you’re cutting through several inches of flesh and muscle and bone, it was nice to have a safeguard.

Horuss flew through the work, transferring the vital system control over to his computers while Rufioh floated away on painkillers. The spinal column slid from the spine and into its new chrome housing. There were several dozen clicks and snaps as the new Rufioh began taking shape.

Horuss cringed at the thought of Rufioh having to live without his wings. They had meant so much to Rufioh’s existence and it was so hard to— The computer alerted Horuss to a slight problem. Rufioh was waking up.

This was no good.

He was just a spinal column and rudimentary frame right now, a head on some shiny metal sticks. A conscious mounted on spindly little pistons that could barely support the weight of Rufioh’s skull, not to mention his horns.

This was no good.

Rufioh groaned, the noise processing through the computer with a digital garble. Horuss began sweating as he sprinted to the main computer. Rufioh’s eyes were starting to open.

This was no good.

Horuss’ hands flew over the keyboard, fiddled with a few dials, hit a series of switches, all in the matter of five seconds. Rufioh’s frame seized up as cables rattled and the computers went haywire. Rufioh’s eyes snapped open, glowing the same shade of cobalt as the rest of Horuss’ equipment.

This was no good.

Horuss was panicking. Rufioh’s disembodied head was spewing out random bits of code and computer jargon in a horrifying digital monotone. Horuss was shaking. This was so wrong, so depraved, so unnatural, so uncouth. The screens all around him were starting to flash.

He spun around, knowing damn well his computers were killing his only love. He was killing Rufioh. Somehow, someway, he had messed up and Rufioh was dying. A familiar bronze symbol popped up on his main computer, glowing a lowly shade of bronze the Horuss had come to love.

“Doll,” the computer rang out. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on but Horuss, doll… FIX IT!”

***

Horuss sat in front of the husktop, the chat client alerting him to two calls. He didn’t care. He was too busy reliving the horror that was the moment in time he felt like was written by troll Mary Shelley. It was a gripping tale of how he royally fucked up everything he loved with one misplaced keystroke that downloaded Rufioh’s conscience into a computer.

He did manage to fix it, but there were drawbacks. Rufioh being turned into a grade-a robo-hoofbeast was the worst. And as many weks as Rufioh had tried his hardest to dispel Horuss’ worries and guilt, the blueblood still beat himself up over it. Horuss knew, deep down that his subconscious desires had been pulling the strings during that crisis.

Did he like Rufioh-bot? Absolutely. In the most lewd and depraved and uncivil corners of his mind he loved Rufioh-bot with all his heart and other parts.

Did he like the fact he forced it onto his matesprit without any consent? Never. In fact, he hated himself for it.

Horuss looked back up at the husktop screen and sighed. The first call he had gotten was a familiar shade of olive that he chose to leave until morning. He wasn’t ready to deal with Meulin yet. He was sorry he had run her out of his house in such an unsightly manner and he knew sooner or later she’d have that creepy purple guy come pay him a visit. It was best to wait for morning.

The second window was even more unwelcome.

                \-- CallouslyAcoustic  [CA] began trolling CanteringTechnologic [CT] ! --

CA: chief

CA: hey

CA: horuss, dude i  wvas um, kinda wvorried about you. You didn’t look any good at all before and i knowv you think im just hitting on you and all but honestly?

CA: the last time you looked that bad wvas wvhen Megido beat the tar outta, wvell, you-knowv-wvho.

CA: so, yeah, im wvorried about you and not just because im a desperate lovwesick fool who’s just all different kinds of lonely in this big old dreambubble.

CA: cause, yeah, I know I’m all kinds of ovwer sensitivwe and insightful about loneliness and wvanting and needing someone and wvell, i just thought

CA: i just thought you needed someone to actually talk to besides a bunch of robots.

CA: Horuss? you there?

CT: I STRONGLY recommend you leave me the f**k alone. Got *t?

CA: wvhoa there chief, no need to get hostile.

CT: You have absolutely no sense of boundar*es, so yeah, I’m going to get host*le.

CA: thats not fair Horuss.

CT: *t’s plenty fair. You need to m*nd your own bus*ness.

CA: maybe i care? didn’t you evwer think that wvas a possibility? and at that point it does become my business.

CT: Well then Cronus, I guess *t’s t*me you learn that I don’t care. And at that po*nt it becomes no one’s business. Now, goodbye.

CA: hold up. wvhat the hell is wvrong with you? wvhy wvon’t you let anyone in? meulins been prancing around the bubble for days wvorried sick about you. youre a pretty shitty moirail and somebody needs to tell you, if you ask me.

CA: horuss?

CA: you still there?

Horuss had no idea what to say. He was caught somewhere between rage and guilt. He shook. The only outlet he had was a sickening shade of violet. The room was quiet aside from the low hum of his computer and his breathing.

What was he supposed to do?

Cronus was no answer to any of his problems. And if he were to approach Meulin she’d berate him for his foolishness and potentially drag along that creepy mime of hers. Horuss shuddered at the thought. He was being an ass and it took a loudmouthed seadweller that he didn’t particularly like to make him realize it.

CA: horuss, wvhere’d you go?

CT: I’m th*nk*ng.

CA: about wvhat?

Horuss could just picture Cronus gazing at the screen with his chin cupped in his hands and his eyes wide in adoration. He sighed.

CT: I’m ne*gh*ng the pros and cons as to whether to even talk to you about this. Because, well, you’re a huge douchebag.

CT: But at the same t*me I’m not sure I’d rather talk to Meulin, espec*ally after my horr*d behoove*or.

CA: I’ll be right ovwer.

                \-- CallouslyAcoustic [CA] ceased trolling CanteringTechnologic [CT] ! --

CT: Wa*t, no, stop.


	8. Waterwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get _steamy_. And then a bit somber.

Rufioh Nitram refused to feel guilty. His relationship, regardless of how long it had lasted, was over. And he had every right to pursue other endeavors. Such as:

Damara.

Naked.

In the shower.

She had returned from her venture to Horuss’ hive with a sparkle in her eye, grabby hands and the sweetest words on her tongue. Something must have happened between her and his ex; something he wasn’t sure was probably for the best but…

“ ~~You gonna finish up there or do I have to help you?~~ ” Damara asked grabbing the bits between his legs, milking a squeak from his lips. Her hands, the water, the heat, everything cascaded down on him and he melted.

“Don’t get so rough, doll,” Rufioh chuckled, tossing his head back. Damara cocked her head, blinked a few times so the droplets flicked off of her eyelashes and squeezed harder. Rufioh bit his lip as the hot water streamed down over the two of them. He shuddered and turned to putty in her hands. Damara grinned.

He fell back into the tiled wall and clawed at it, searching for something to steady himself. He found none. Rufioh slid halfway to the floor, shudders of pleasure pulsing up his body. Damara started using her mouth and Rufioh started making noise. If it weren’t for the distance between his tree-hive and the rest of their troupe there would’ve been some concerned neighbors.

She made quick work of his pleasure, and although Rufioh was a little peeved at her hooker-tendency to work her magic and leave, he was plenty glad to have the shower to himself. Damara wasn’t somebody you’d invite to dinner on regular basis, never mind lie with all night, every night. A shower and a quick hand job was good enough for her and good enough for him.

She was gone.

Rufioh was alone, cradled in on himself on the couch in front of another anime re-run, left with nothing but his thoughts. This was no good but he didn’t seem to realize it.

Damara was gone. Rufioh was alone.

Horuss was gone. Rufioh was alone.

It was quiet. Rufioh was alone. He lay down, his fuzzy blanket cocooning around him and his wings as he tried to get comfortable on a couch clearly meant for two.

***

He woke up in a cold sweat with a horrible lump in his throat. Dreaming in a dreambubble was how he imagined a normal troll dreamed. No Prospit. No hororterrors. No dreambubbles. No complications. Just dreams.

He hated it.

“I will not dwell on him. I will not dwell on us. We are over. Got it, brain?” Rufioh knocked on his head. “No more of your subconscious shenanigans, just chill out. Be cool. Don’t dwell. Got it? Good,” Rufioh said as he wiped his eyes and got up.

He went to the mess of a kitchen and shuffled around some of the scraps of food and garbage while looking for some hot cocoa. He made a mental note to clean up. There was no point to this mess. As Horuss would’ve said, it was unbecoming to someone even of his rank.

Rufioh smacked himself upside the head. “No dwelling,”

He ran the water, filled his cup, threw it in the microwave for a few seconds, looked out the window, watched the dreambubble clouds swirl around the sky, got his hot cocoa ready…

“Damn my life is fucking boring…” Rufioh sighed as he stopped stirring his drink. “Handjobs and anime are only good for so long,”

***

Rufioh wandered the lawnring for a few minutes before deciding to visit Porrim again. It had been over a week. He didn’t have a good excuse per say to drop in on her, but he reasoned that after a few billion years she’d be used to his presence.

But he didn’t make it there without interruption.

She pounced as soon as he was within range. He hit the ground and squinted in the sunlight casting her in shadow.

“Oh Rufioh!” Meulin squealed. “I need your help! Please Rufioh, he hasn’t talked to anyone in days and he refuses to answer my calls and he’s holed up in that hive of his and I’m so worried and…” Rufioh managed to wiggle himself out from underneath a blabbering Meulin. He looked around for an escape but could only find Kurloz miming ‘ _hey’_ from a few yards away.

“Meulin, can you… ya know, get off of me?” Rufioh asked as politely as he could.

“Oh, of course Rufioh,” Meulin said as she scurried to help Rufioh up. “It’s just, I’m so flustered about this whole thing and I don’t know what’s up with him and if he’s broken off our moirallegience which I could’ve understood, sort of, if he had talked to me about it. But I’d be a great moirail if he’d talk to me and—”

“Meulin, I have no idea what you’re rambling about,” Rufioh admitted.

“Horuss locked himself up in his hive for days, Rufioh. He won’t talk to anyone and I think I saw Ampora going over there last night,” Meulin said, looking to the ground and shuffling her feet. “I feel like I haven’t been trying hard enough to keep him under control and reasonable. But there’s only so much I can do, and I’d have asked Kurloz for some help but I know Horuss is just freaked out by him so I haven’t. But I thought,” Meulin stopped. She looked up at Rufioh and his flat face. It was beyond clear.

“I really don’t see how this is my problem,” Rufioh said, the color rising in his face as he struggled with the words.

“Oh, please Rufioh. I’m an expert shipper and I know—”

“You know nothing,” Rufioh spat. “Me and Horuss are through. What he does is his business. I couldn’t care less at this point if he’s locked his doors or lost his moirail or is screwing Cronus halfway up the wall. I just… I just don’t… care. At all,” Rufioh said, choking on his own words as he pushed past Meulin and headed back for his hive.

Nothing was ever going to be easy for him. Ever.

He wiped his eyes.

“I will not dwell on him.”


	9. Do Not Dwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cronus offers Horuss a well-needed distraction.

“You shouldn’t be dwelling on him Horuss,”

He was locked up in his room, blowing bubbles in the sopor to distract himself from the lewd character on the other side of his door. He never thought he’d stoop so low to let _that_ violet-blooded sea-dweller into his hive.

“You’re better than that, you know? He ain’t nothing but a lowblood mutant anyway. So chin up Hor—”

Horuss was across the room in an instant and dripping sopor all over the floor as he ripped the door off the hinges. Cronus had been curled up against the door frame and fell into Horuss as he loomed over him. Horuss swooped down and caught Cronus by the collar of his white t-shirt.

“Don’t you ever insult Rufioh Nitram again or so help me, Cronus, I will shred your gills into confetti,” Horuss hissed, a mere inch away from Cronus’s panicking face. “ _Got it?”_

“Anything you say chief,” Cronus replied, shaking like he’d just come face to face with a monstrosity even sgrub couldn’t conceive. Horuss dropped Cronus to the ground with a thunk and paced back to his recuperacoon.

“Great,” Horuss mumbled as he slunk back into his bed, submerging up to his collarbone in the neon green slop. “Now that that’s cleared up you can vacate the premises and never come back. You’ve been in my home, uninvited, for hours and I think it’d be best if you leave now,”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Cronus interjected. He got up and wiped some slime off his arm. “I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re in your right mind. What good is a friend if they’re not their when you need me the most?”

“There are several flaws with that line of thinking Ampora. A, you are not and never have been my friend. B, I do not like you in any capacity. C, you creep me out beyond reason. D, you are overbearing. E, you are astonishingly self-centered. And finally, F, I, unlike you, am not absolutely desperate to latch onto any living, or un-living, creature in order to feel loved. On the contrary my dear highblood, I want to be left alone. That’s why I locked myself in here all night and left you scratching at my bedroom door,”

“So you’re playing hard to get I see?” Cronus asked with a chuckle, mentally clinging to the term ‘dear highblood’. He walked over to Horuss reclining in his bed with everything below his neck submerged in sopor.

“You’re so very dense,” Horuss groaned, sinking a few more inches. He didn’t want to get out of bed yet again, so he’d have to make due with the touchy-feeling seadweller for a little while longer. And in all honesty, it wasn’t as bad as he had imagined.

Yes, Cronus had constantly been able to turn the conversation around to something concerning himself. Somehow Horuss listened to at least fiver rants about Cronus’s artistic endeavors or his identity crisis or his own failed attempts at filling his quadrants. And, yes, it was irritating. But it was better conversation than reliving Horuss’ millennia with Rufioh.

Anything was better than dwelling.

Cronus circled the recuperacoon until he was standing behind Horuss. Without hesitation he took Horuss ponytail in hand and started stroking it, brushing a little dried sopor off as he went.

“What are you doing?” Horuss asked, whipping his head around.

“Nothing,” Cronus said, feigning innocence as he took Horuss’ hair again and pulled his fingers through it. The gesture was just little enough that Horuss didn’t press it further. He really didn’t care what Cronus did, so long as he didn’t throw his naked body in the recuperacoon, bulge flapping in the wind, lips all over Horuss. As long as it wasn’t _that_ , then Cronus could stay.

Horuss sank a little further into his slime and Cronus started humming. It wasn’t so bad having Ampora around. It wasn’t nowhere near as horrid and overtly sexual as he would imagine. It was actually kind of soothing hearing him hum as he fiddled with Horuss’ mane.

He was drifting off when he heard Cronus talking again.

“I know it’s got to hurt and all, but don’t think for a second you’re the only lonely person floating in this endless void. You hear me Horuss? Plenty of people hurt. Look at me, I pine after a fuchsia girl who locked herself away for billions of years, and when she finally get the gumption to return to the world of the unloving, well she’s got a suicide mission on her mind.

“And don’t even get me started on how she hurts me. I try my hardest to make myself appealing to her. To _anyone_ really. I change everything about myself. I drop all the gold and the class and hell, I’ve even lost all faith in magic and it’s the same damn story. No one wants a thing to do with Cronus Ampora.

“So don’t think you’re the only lonely person out there Horuss,” Cronus said with a sad shrug. “Like that human poet dude used to say, ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all,”

“Bullshit,” Horuss grumbled.

“Give me a break Zahhak,” Cronus sneered, yanking a little as he stroked Horuss’ hair. “You’ve had a fairytale romance for millennia. Sweeps upon sweeps of the reddest romance any of us have ever seen. And wow, there’s a bump in the road. Big whoop. Chief, take it from me, I would’ve killed to have had what you had,”

“Well,” Horuss sighed. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, it’s just…” Horuss bit his lip and mulled over his words. “It’s that Rufioh doesn’t seem to be as grateful or as receptive to what we had. He just upped and walked out. He never said why. He never told me anything was wrong. He didn’t even try—” Horuss was fighting against a lump in his throat now.

“What’s wrong?” Cronus asked.

“He didn’t even try to fix a damn thing. All he ever does is disappear. Come and go. You think we had sweeps upon sweeps of uninterrupted love? No, Cronus, that’s not how it was. He’d do this again and again. But he’d at least tell me what was wrong. Either he was bored or we’d fight over pailing or he’d want to try something else or that _damned_ Megido would get in his head.

“But this time?” Horuss wiped his eyes. “This time he just said ‘We’re done, goodbye’ and then walked out. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? How the hell am I going to fix what I did wrong if he won’t tell me what I’ve done wrong? How am I going to ever make him happy if he won’t tell me how?”

“Whoa chief, that’s some deep stuff you’re getting into,” Cronus said taking a step back.

“You say that as if I didn’t know it,” Horuss scoffed, sinking up to his nose in sopor. Cronus stepped to the side of Horuss’ bed and got down to his knees so he’d be at eye level with the other boy.

“Maybe you do need a break then,” Cronus said. “Maybe you need some time to clear your head and get on better footing,” Cronus pushed an errant strand of hair out of Horuss’ eye and then clasped his shoulder. “Maybe you need some you time, time to try out some new things on your own without all that emotional baggage,”

“I’m not sleeping with you Cronus,”

“I said nothing of the sort!” Cronus jumped back. Horuss chuckled just enough to calm Ampora down.

“I know,” Horuss said. “But you have a track record of being clingy and desperate,”

“Hey!” Cronus yelled, crossing his arms and his face distorting into a playful grimace.

“Calm your rumble spheres seadweller, or you might get your gills in a knot. I’m joking.”

“I thought your jokes were of the horse pun variety?”

“At times,” Horuss said, thinking. “Ah, who am I foaling? Harnessing the power of horse puns is one of my many talents,”

“You’re not the only multi-talented troll, don’t forget,”

“Please don’t start singing one of those human songs. Please Cronus,”

“Too late,”

***

Horuss didn’t _hate_ Cronus’s music. He didn’t like it either. He was indifferent. But it was growing on him as slow as moss.

The dreambubble day waned. Eventually, the sun decided it was time to let the night in. Horuss had clambered out of bed and showered off the excess slime while Cronus rambled on and on about his unrequited loves.

And Horuss didn’t hate it. The stories were a good distraction from the hellfire swirling on the fringes of his mind.

Anything was better than dwelling.

There was a knocking at the door.


	10. How to be Confrontational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get physical.

The knocking at the door grew louder and quicker. His knuckles were starting to hurt now. His ex was not worth skinned knuckles. His ex was not worth standing at a dank doorstep and shivering his wings off just so he could…

The door swung open.

“What do you want?”

This was not the color of troll Rufioh was expecting.

“I know Meulin said something about you harassing Horuss but I didn’t think it was anything more than rumors,” Rufioh said, trying to push past the seadweller with no luck.

“Hold up their chief!” Cronus said with a sly smile as he leaned up against the doorway. Rufioh scowled at his new roadblock. “Horuss hasn’t said anything about inviting you over. Don’t you think it’s a little _rude_ to show up uninvited?”

Rufioh, always used to warding off Cronus and his advances, never thought he’d see the day mister clingy-fins would try and turn him away.

“I’m not here to deal with your shit Cronus,” Rufioh said, wings twitching in agitation.

“And I’m here dealing with a heartbreaking jerk. I guess our days aren’t going as planned?” Cronus sneered. Rufioh took a step back, not sure if this was Cronus’s poor attempt at caliginous flirting or if he was really—

“What’s it to you anyway frilly-gills?” Rufioh asked.

Cronus frowned. “Nicknames aren’t going to get you anywhere fairy-boy,”

“What’s with the tone Ampora?” Rufioh asked, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, _Nitram_ ,” Cronus cocked his head. Rufioh stepped forward, putting only centimeters between them.

“Why don’t you get out of the fucking way?” Rufioh muttered. Cronus could smell the hot chocolate on his breath. Lowbloods were so repulsive and yet…

“Are you coming on to me Nitram? Cause this black flirting thing you’ve got going on is pretty hot,” Cronus said with a waggling eyebrow. Rufioh smiled. He put both hands on Cronus’s shoulders. Their body heat warmed the little bit of air between them.

“Hey, Ampora?”

“Yeah, fairy-boy?”

“Why don’t you,” Rufioh clenched Cronus’s shoulders tighter. “Why don’t you _get the fuck out of my way_ ,” Rufioh said, spinning Cronus around and tossing him squarely on Horuss’ porch. Cronus lost his balance and hit the ground with a solid thunk.

“Ouch!” he yelped, rubbing his tailbone. “What the fuck Rufioh?!” Cronus yelled. Rufioh slammed the door in the seadweller’s face. “Who the hell made you king of the freaking castle?” Cronus mumbled before pushing himself up.

***

Rufioh padded through the foyer and made his way to the living room where he assumed Horuss was trying to ward of Cronus’s unwanted advances. No luck. The place was a mess but no one was present. Rufioh noted the hole in the wall and the picture in the cracked frame.

He bit his lip and pressed onward.

“Maybe the kitchen?” Rufioh pondered out loud. Nothing. He tried one of the doors to Horuss’ workshop but it was locked and no light peeked out from under the door. He kept looking. His ex’s dining room and den and library were all unoccupied. The downstairs bathroom was void of any person and…

“May I ask why are you here and what happened to Cronus?” his voice was forced into calm and Rufioh could tell. Horuss was making his way down the stairs and caught Rufioh snooping through the living room. He was dripping wet as he cornered Rufioh against a bookshelf. Rufioh couldn’t help but stare at his ex’s bare chest and the towel around his waist and the bundles of muscles coursing up and down his—

“Why the hell did Cronus break into your hive?” Rufioh asked.

“He didn’t. Now, would you be so kind as to explain why _you’ve_ broken into my hive,” Horuss asked, hands on hips, one foot tapping. Even a few inches shorter than Rufioh, he was still intimidating as hell when borderline angry.

“I didn’t break in, I just wanted to talk and… Whoa, wait are you saying you let Cronus in here?” Rufioh asked, unable to believe it. “This whole ‘ordeal’ has got you that tweaked. Damn, doll, I never—”

“Do not call me doll Rufioh. Don’t you dare. And you’re in no place to question my decisions any longer. In fact you’ve recently rescinded that right in full. Now if you would be so kind as to vacate the premises before I have to escort you out,” Horuss said, voice rising as his face and ears flushed blue. Just like any other time he was about to blow.

Horuss wasn’t an angry person, but when he was, it was fearsome. Rufioh knew that.

Rufioh took a step back and bumped into the shelf. “Horuss I just wanted to stop by to see if everything was okay. Meulin came up to me earlier saying you locked yourself up in here and stopped talking to her and…”

“So?”

“So? Horuss, she asked me to make sure you were okay,” Rufioh said.

“And?”

“And that’s why I came over,” Rufioh said sliding to the left and falling into a chair. Horuss towered over him now.

“If you gave a damn about me being okay you wouldn’t have left in the first place,” Horuss said. He leaned forward and put a hand on each of Rufioh’s shoulders. “You could’ve tried. But you didn’t. Not in the slightest.

“You don’t give a damn about me Rufioh. You just feel guilty. And I don’t care. I want you to feel just a fraction of the turmoil you’ve planted in my heart. Maybe then you can act like a decent troll,” Horuss growled.

Rufioh pulled back and tried to evaporate into the armchair’s upholstery. It didn’t work. Horuss picked him up by the shoulders, as if he were nothing more than a raggedy plush. “Put me down Horuss, you’re hurting me,” Rufioh cried out as his arms started bruising. Horuss had taken of his de-strengthening gloves to shower and hadn’t put them back on.

“Good,” Horuss said, choking on his guilt and anger. Everything was a blur after that.

Rufioh was kicking and screaming.  Horuss had shouted at him to shut up, he even slapped him hard.

Rufioh soared across the room. Horuss yelled as a shelf full of priceless art came crashing down on top of his ex. 

Rufioh had gotten up and ran for the door. Horuss blocked his way.

They were both screaming. Everything was a blur. They were blaming each other. They were blaming everyone else. Rufioh got a swift kick to Horuss knee in edgeways.

Horuss yelped and grabbed Rufioh by the waist.

He went up. Up and over the couch.

And right out the window.

***

They were making a scene. A horrible, loud, bloody scene.

Horuss jumped out the window after Rufioh. The lowblood was curled up on his side and crying out in pain, trickles of brown issuing from the scrapes and scratches all over his face. Horuss leaped over the gardens and hovered over Rufioh, swooping down like a crazed mother-bird.

“My God Rufioh!” Horuss yelled. “I’m so sorry. Rufioh I’m so sorry! Rufioh,” Horuss scooped Rufioh up, trying his absolute hardest to be gentle. “Oh Rufioh I’m so fucking sorry, please be okay,”

Horuss got up and circled the side of the house with Rufioh draped in his arms. Horuss kept Rufioh’s head up so he wouldn’t choke on the blood pooling in his mouth. Rufioh moaned and inhaled a ragged breath.

“Damn Horuss, you smell fine tonight,” Rufioh coughed.

“Oh good God Rufioh I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never want to hurt you. Not like this. Not in any way. Oh God, Rufioh,” Horuss babbled as tears streamed down his face. He jumped up onto the porch.

Cronus was waiting.

“What the hell happened to you two?” he asked as he got out of the way. “I heard a bunch of commotion but Rufioh locked me out and then there was a big crash and—”

Horuss kicked in the door. “Cronus, shut up. Go get Aranea. Now.”

Cronus didn’t say anything else. He bolted.

***

Horuss laid Rufioh on the couch and fell to his knees babbling like an idiot as he fought back tears. He wiped the blood off of Rufioh, trying his hardest to keep the wounds clean. He had no idea what he was doing. He never did when it came to Rufioh.

“Dude,” Rufioh spluttered.

“Please don’t say anything Rufioh, you have to conserve your energy,”

“Don’t go being all concerned now. You won that fight, fair and square,” Rufioh said. He coughed up a bit of blood.

Horuss sobbed, “No.” Horuss wiped his face. “I could never win a fight with you. Not that kind of fight. Never. If you ever get hurt, I lose. I’ll always lose. I can’t win when you’re hurt Rufioh. Never,” Horuss buried his face in Rufioh’s vest as he cried.

“Dude, chill out.” Rufioh said, dropping a limp hand on Horuss’ neck. “Damara did fifty times worse. At least you didn’t break my spine and a bunch of other shit.”

“But she didn’t kill you. She didn’t double-kill you. Rufioh,” Horuss looked up at Rufioh’s blood-caked face. “She didn’t lose you. Not like I’m losing you.”

**END OF ACT 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've posted Act 1 in its entirety here on Ao3, I'll begin work on Act 2 soon.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any tags I should add, please don't be afraid to message me. I have no idea how tags work here and which ones I should be using.


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